New Girl
by Salsa411
Summary: Riley just might find himself a girl who's worth his time...or is she?


New Girl

"Yo, Escobar!" an excited masculine voice greeted through the phone.

Riley was leaning against the headboard to his bed, texting on his cell phone while positioning the house phone between his jaw and shoulder. Fortunately, ever since Huey went off to college in Washington D.C., he was able to keep their room for himself. Not much changed, but there was more space so he wasn't complaining.

"Man, who dis?" the nearly eighteen-year-old demanded in an impatient voice, still texting.

"Nigga, it's Trey," the boy said, slightly annoyed. Riley sucked his teeth.

"Whatchu want, nigga?"

"You gotta meet mah new homie. G go real hard," he told him, all traces of annoyance replaced with enthusiasm. He sat up, putting his phone down. Now he had his attention. His eyes narrowed.

"He a real nigga?"

"You jus' gon' have ta see fo yoself." He rolled his eyes and stood up, picking up his Jordans and his cell phone.

"Bettah not be bitch-made, or Imma stomp you in tha nuts, no homo," he threatened. It was silent on both ends of the line as Riley put his sneakers on and jogged down the stairs. "Man, where you at?"

"The basketball court," Trey answered simply.

"Nigga, which one you talkin' 'bout?"

"Which one you think it is, man? Damn, don't be playin' stupid an' shit." He was starting to sound annoyed again. Riley froze in front of the steps, his eyes wide with shock and disappointment.

"You mean you brought dat nigga there wit all dem white people?" When he received no answer, he spoke again. "He black?"

"Man, what did I jus' tell you? Ain' nobody even here. Bettah hurry up or we gon' leave befo' yo ass even git here, ya smell me?" he warned, losing patience. Normally, Riley wouldn't comply with anything, being that he was Young Reezy, but he didn't care enough to do anything this time.

"Whateva, nigga," he muttered, walking towards the living room.

"So you gon' be here?"

"Yeah I'm gon' be there! Damn." There was another pause as he stood in front of the coffee table.

"Aye, man, make sure you fitted up when you git here, doe," Trey said in a lower voice. Riley scowled.

"Nigga, I _am_ fitted up. Young Reezy _always_ fitted up. Shit, don't need ta tell _me_ nothin'."

"Well then be extra fitted up, man," he advised, his voice still quiet. Riley sucked his teeth again.

"Man, why you _sayin'_ all dat?" he demanded, "I mean, where we goin' afta' dis? Church? An' why you whisperin'?" Trey sighed, obviously frustrated.

"Whatever. You got five minutes." With that, he hung up. Riley shook his head, tossing the phone on the couch and heading back for the stairs. Sure, Grandad would probably throw a fit about him leaving it there, but he was so used to it he didn't even care. He'd be graduating in eight months anyway.

"Tellin' a nigga ta be extra fitted up. Why I gotta be _extra_ fitted up? Ain't like da new nigga gon' stay 'round or some shit. Don' no real nigga wanna be up in Whitecrest _no_ way," he continued to mumble under his breath.

As soon as he was back in his room, he tugged a black t-shirt over his wife beater and put on his white fur-hooded coat along with a custom-made hat that read 'Esco' on the front. He was already wearing his chain (this one had a dollar sign on it, since the Lethal Interjection one was useless due to how old it was), so he went back downstairs and out the front door.

Riley was walking up to the basketball court when, all of the sudden, he stopped, seeing only two people on standing under the net. Wow, there really was no one here.

"Trey," he called out, approaching them, hands in his coat pockets. The taller figure looked up in his direction, a grin spreading across his face.

"Aye, mah nigga!" he shouted back. Then, to the shorter one standing beside him, "That's him." As Riley became closer, he was starting to notice the height different between the two. Trey had to have at least a foot on the other one. And Trey was his height.

"Damn…dis nigga short," he muttered quietly. Soon enough, the height wasn't the only thing he'd managed to notice in his short walk there. The smaller figure turned out to be a female. Riley frowned in confusion; this wasn't the new member, she wasn't a man. He finally stopped in front of them, scowling at the woman.

"Aye, man—" Trey started.

"Nigga, who dis?" Riley interrupted, still looking at her. Trey looked down at her and smiled before looking back at Riley.

"This is Maria. Maria, this is Esco," he introduced happily. The seventeen-year-old proceeded to glare. Maria smirked at him raising a brow.

"'Scuse us a second, _Maria,_" he dragged her name out distastefully before taking his friend by the shoulder and leading them away from her. Trey turned to her and held up one finger, signaling her to wait there. Once Riley was sure they were out of earshot, he shoved at him. "Nigga, you dun went an' got a bitch? Da fuck is dat all about? What happened to not lovin' dem hoes? Man, we was _real_ niggas. Now we sum punk bitches. Nigga, what's _wrong_ wit you?" Trey shoved him back.

"She ain't mah bitch, man. She mah homie; she yo homie. We ain't no punk bitches, she jus' go real hard, dat's all," he tried to explain, but Riley wasn't having it. He shook his head roughly.

"Nah, nigga. You really ain't understandin' right now. We cain't have no bitch in da crew; we reppin' the streets, nigga! Ain't no way Imma let sum broad get us shot. We walk da streets wit a bitch, ain' no one gon' take us seriously. Man, let a nigga hear 'bout dis, we don't rep nothin' but bitch ass niggas." Trey rolled his eyes.

"Man, _look _at her. She can't humiliate us. She sexy as hell." He peeked at Riley, who was now taking a good look at her, "Ain't she?" He didn't pay him any mind, he was too busy examining her slim, curvy figure and slightly tanned skin. She had long, thick brown hair that went down to the small of her back in loose waves…not to mention her butt was pretty round.

"Damn…" he murmured under his breath. He turned slowly to see Trey grinning at him. Immediately he snapped out of it. "Nigga, _what?_"

"I saw you starin', man. You into her?" he questioned. Riley frowned, sucking his teeth.

"Nah, man. Reezy don' fall fo dem hoes."

"Nigga, you _wack_—"

"Nigga, _you_ wack," he interrupted, walking back over to where she was standing under the net by herself. "C'mon. Da bitch just waitin' ova there." Trey followed him, the grin never leaving his face.

"Man, you dig," he told him, "An' if you ain't, you trippin'."

"Whateva," he muttered. After a moment of silence, he added, "She still a bitch."


End file.
